HER FEAR

4..........of a shock.

" A shock is not a feeling. Nor is it electric. It is a moment. A moment of not understanding, not believing and not accepting in order for time to move on. "
ella_michy.

Chapter 4.
Past

His mother did something today. Something. It was unbelievable. Surreal . It had been two weeks since he was in the basement. Hell, he liked to refer it to that. But maybe he'll was much once. And he was glad he as just in a basement. He had eaten only twice during the whole two weeks he had been there. He didn't feel hungry though. His body was not focussed on hunger at this point.

Hunger.

It was like he did never heard of that word.

Thirst.

That word was even more not thought of. Like said. His body wasn't focussed on that. Give him words like
Inability to sleep.
Confused
Uncomfortable
Dirty.
Scared.

Or maybe the last one was long gone. He wasn't scared anymore. He had long stopped being afraid of whether there would be ghosts or zombies or whatever things you could come up with. It was as if he was growing. Growing out of all those. Was it good or bad? You would say it was good. But I would say it was bad. Not good at all. I mean wasn't that childhood?

Wasn't it all a part of being a child? Being sacred of petty things like ghosts, monsters, evil characters in comics and all those stuff . It was all a part. So this felt like his childhood was being taken from him. Of course he didn't know. How would a 13 year old boy know? But to put it short. Him. Not being scared wasn't good. As a child, you were supposed to be scared sometimes. Then your parents will comfort you and you will fall asleep, feeling safe when there wasn't anything to be scared of to begin with. That was the funny part of childhood. But he wasn't getting that. He was doing it all on his own.

The food he received during those two weeks were made of half a slice of bread with ice cream that was fully melted and warm. But he ate it. Enjoyed in fact. Then the second time was just water and one cookie. The cookie was nasty. But it was okay for him. After all he wasn't focussed on that. Hunger. It was as if his mother unintentionally forgot that he was down there and had to eat.

That something his mother did. It surprised him. Shock maybe. He didn't know. She entered the basement. Smelling good. Very good. Like a new perfume. But there was something. Some other smell lingering on her. He didn't ask. She entered the basement and brought him out. Kept repeating she was sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

When he got out, he recognized that lingering smell. It was smoke. He didn't understand where it came from. Maybe when she was cooking she accidentally burnt something. Or otherwise. He couldn't tell, because the smell wasn't in the kitchen. He wanted to go to his room. But his mother made a bath for him and prepared breakfast. Still kept repeating sorry. She was so sorry she said.

His anger cleared away. His fear changed to anger during the two weeks. But it dissipated when he heard her saying she was sorry.

He had forgiven her. At least she came back. But he didn't know how he would feel if she did it again. He was sure of one thing though. He wouldn't forgive her this easily.

Him.

I've been sitting in his conference room along with my PA and other partners at my company to witness. The conference room is good, no doubt. Though I don't think it can compare with mine. You're probably wondering whose conference room I'm talking about. Well I'm talking about the man who decided it was a good idea to become the second greatest fashion company in New York. Since I called for the meeting, I was here at 11:45 even the the meeting was scheduled at 12:00. Punctuality is key in business so I made sure my partners and I were here early.